[In point of fact, Alucard has very little love for city life. He's a creature of the mountains, of isolation, of being outside and away from humanity. His presence in London is a requirement right now, for reasons the Belmonts have only sort of explained but not really. Something's going down and we need someone with the Hold's knowledge in their head.
Terrible reason. It set Alucard on edge, especially with the past century of revolution in what was only now the Kingdom of Romania. Place names came and went, Ottomans gave way to Russians gave way to the Austro-Hungarians, gave way to independence, but there was still a sense of loss at Wallachia as it's own place. There was always the chance of another war, and now he was a continent away, unable to defend the castle and the Hold.
It was a pointless worry. Plenty of Belmonts remained to do just that, and so he was in London, doing what research he could. The lie of who he was this time (Adrian Ţepeş, an outed minor nobleman who had lost all when the Kingdom of Romania formed) was simple enough, and he could at least access archives and collections in spaces like the British Museum to attempt to understand what threat the Belmonts saw in London.
Which rather lead to here and now. Those same connections that let Alucard sit and assist with cataloging (because he was good at that) asked permission to pass his name along to someone doing research into Romanian folklore. He had agreed, made the appropriate appointment, and at this point, was making coffee in his kitchen.
The exterior of home was as plain a town home as anyone could hope for. Somber and of the time, with a bell attached. A bell attached that was ringing now, just as the coffee (in the style of the Ottomans) completed it's final boil.
Living alone meant that there was no one else to get the door. So Alucard poured the coffee into two tulip shaped glasses first, then went to greet his guest.
No creepy creaky door. No foreboding. Nothing looking out at Vanessa but a simply dressed man with hair a little too long for the time to be considered fashionable.]
no subject
Terrible reason. It set Alucard on edge, especially with the past century of revolution in what was only now the Kingdom of Romania. Place names came and went, Ottomans gave way to Russians gave way to the Austro-Hungarians, gave way to independence, but there was still a sense of loss at Wallachia as it's own place. There was always the chance of another war, and now he was a continent away, unable to defend the castle and the Hold.
It was a pointless worry. Plenty of Belmonts remained to do just that, and so he was in London, doing what research he could. The lie of who he was this time (Adrian Ţepeş, an outed minor nobleman who had lost all when the Kingdom of Romania formed) was simple enough, and he could at least access archives and collections in spaces like the British Museum to attempt to understand what threat the Belmonts saw in London.
Which rather lead to here and now. Those same connections that let Alucard sit and assist with cataloging (because he was good at that) asked permission to pass his name along to someone doing research into Romanian folklore. He had agreed, made the appropriate appointment, and at this point, was making coffee in his kitchen.
The exterior of home was as plain a town home as anyone could hope for. Somber and of the time, with a bell attached. A bell attached that was ringing now, just as the coffee (in the style of the Ottomans) completed it's final boil.
Living alone meant that there was no one else to get the door. So Alucard poured the coffee into two tulip shaped glasses first, then went to greet his guest.
No creepy creaky door. No foreboding. Nothing looking out at Vanessa but a simply dressed man with hair a little too long for the time to be considered fashionable.]
Miss Ives, I presume?